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Someone Has Control Issues

So I’m sitting at my desk, calmly working on something, when I hear a thump on my front porch. Please, first, get an idea of my front porch. It’s enclosed. You must pull up out front, walk up a sidewalk, walk up 10 steps, walk through a door and then you are standing on my front porch. It’s a big porch and it’s part of my living space.

When I heard the thump, I thought it was my cat, wanting to come inside. She will sometimes knock things over if I’ve left her outside too long. So I finish what I’m typing and go to the front door, open it…

…to find…

That Mr. Man, who imposed in an incredibly controlling manner a “three week period of no contact” so I could deal with my “anger” issues, has been there, and dropped off a red tote bag that contains a small bag of potting soil, a pot, and some rooting hormone that I’d purchased last time I went to visit him so I could take some cuttings from his patchouli plant and root them.

When I left his house that evening, I asked if I could just leave it in his basement, since we didn’t get to the patchouli plant. No problem. That was also the same day I’d given him the sterling silver suncatcher that I’d spent two weeks making for him.

The thump I heard was Mr. Man dropping my bag of potting materials on my porch. He’d driven at LEAST 40 minutes from work to do this. I noticed there was no suncatcher. Of course not. That would mean he wouldn’t have a second opportunity to “prove” to me he’s so in control of this situation.

What he’s not getting is that as far as I’m concerned, there is no situation. He’s got control issues.

Someone said to me today, when I called and told him about the thump on the porch that this is a man who likes a lot of things about me, but because I will not change my personality to fit his ideal image of me, and because he’s been progressively showing control issues, he’s now attempting to show me he believes himself to be in total control of me.

It’s true. Mr. Man DID like a lot of things about me. He loved the “stupid, affection-starved me.” He adored that I was kind to him, that I hung on his every word, that I praised his talents at cooking and home-making and at nurturing. Yes, I thought this man was a nurturer. He’s not.

The second I let him know that he’d hurt my feelings, and that I was upset about it, the entire relationship shifted. I then became “angry” and he “detected a dissatisfaction with him.” Um – yeah. And anyone who can’t handle that from someone they term “long-term relationship potential” has severe issues.

Relationships are about give and take. Ebb and flow. I was giving, he was taking. The minute I voiced a need of my own, he began projecting his own inadequacies and insecurities on me. I didn’t notice for a while. The control issues bother me. The fact that he had big enough ones to just walk into my private space without my permission scare me.

I think that’s what I’m feeling right now, more than anything. Afraid. While this man has shown no tendencies toward physical violence, coming by my home, unannounced and uninvited, and up into my living space sends me a direct message and it’s not a good one. I believe he meant this to be a control maneuver. That didn’t work.

I’ve emailed him a request not to come to my home uninvited. I don’t expect to hear back from him, because my email just took the wind out of his control sails. If he does do it (and I believe he will, so he can return the suncatcher I made for him), I will have the friendly neighborhood police drop by his home and let him know he is not welcome here.

Had he called, or emailed or otherwise stated something along the lines of “Hey, your red tote bag with potting materials is at my house. What should I do with it?” I’d have been fine. I’d even have spoken with him or replied to the email with some sort of direction for him.

He did not do that. He simply trespassed, bold as the balls on a brass monkey and “thump” went my potting materials. And the thing is – we’d had a discussion about those a few weeks ago. He KNEW I didn’t need them for anything but the patchouli. I’d told him to feel free to use them himself. I told him I didn’t need the totebag, since I had a bazillion of them. So what other reason could he have had for dropping, unannounced and uninvited onto my front porch, which he knows is used as living space and “thumping” that bag down. He could have set it down quietly, but he didn’t. It wasn’t THAT heavy.